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Still, escort’s my jam. It’s raw, it’s loud, it’s me screamin’ at the void while haulin’ ass. You ever see a convoy rollin’ at dusk, lights blazin’, horns blastin’? That’s art, baby. That’s *Before Sunset* on wheels—two souls, or trucks, just tryna make it before the night hits. “I’m designed to feel everythin’,” Jesse says—shit, that’s me with every tire squeal and near-miss. Love it, hate it, can’t quit it. Escort’s the wildest ride, fam—jump in or get the fuck outta the way!

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I gotta tell ya – my spa’s not just a spa, it’s a sanctuary. Many a client has whispered secret dreams in those quiet rooms, and every massage session ends with genuine smiles. I spend a lot of time in solitude there – thinkin’ ‘bout the rhythm of Ponca-City. It ain’t perfect, sure, sometimes I get mad when the weather’s off or the traffic’s a mess. But then, I remember how we pull together, and I just laugh it off. Kinda bittersweet, like a scene from "Carlos", in a way, like life’s unpredicatble montage.

Capitol Conversations, Senator Bill Coleman